Sweet Revenge
by acciodoxycide
Summary: In which Scorpius leaves Al hanging, and Al seeks revenge. One-shot. Warning: Not for children's eyes!


**Disclaimer: **JKR owns everything and everyone recognizable, I just rip them off for my own entertainment. I'm not making any money off of this.

**Warning: **Strong M rating! Beware the slash-y smut! :P

**A/N: **This story is something of a sequel to _An Imperfectly Perfect Christmas_, but only in that Scorpius and Al are the same people, in the same living situation, with the same jobs, etc, etc. This fic takes place three years later. I think it can stand on it's own, though (maybe...?). It probably can, because, let's face it, we're not dealing with a whole lot of plot in this fic. ;-) Anyway, happy reading! Reviews=love!

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**Sweet Revenge**

It was quarter past seven on a Thursday morning, and Al was having a very pleasant dream, indeed. He didn't have to be at work until eight thirty and was currently being blessed by the fact that his subconscious obviously wanted him to thoroughly enjoy his last forty-five minutes of sleep.

In his dream, Al was back at Hogwarts. Although he hadn't been in this room in around seven years, his unconscious brain could apparently remember the Prefect's bathroom perfectly. Al was sitting, bare-arsed, at the edge of a very large, white marble bath which was sunk into the floor. His legs were immersed in hot, frothy water, and a certain blond someone had just surfaced between his knees. Scorpius looked up at him through mischievous grey eyes, a purely sinful smirk playing at his lips, as he wrapped his fingers around the back of Al's knees under the water and scooted him to the very edge of the bath. Al noticed how hard he was with anticipation in his dream, as Scorpius licked his lips and prepared to do what he did best. Somewhere in the recesses of his sleeping brain, Al felt that he must be just as hard in real life, too.

The seventeen-year-old Scorpius in front of him in the bubbly water bent his head low and licked a slow, tantalizing trail up the underside of Al's shaft; he then took half of Al's cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head; next, Scorpius pulled back almost completely, before positively ramming Al's full length down his throat. Scorpius didn't gag, just made a hungry little noise in the back of his occupied throat before pulling back again, grating his teeth lightly over sensitive skin as he went. Al moaned unrestrainedly into the echoing bathroom of his dream; he had more than likely moaned out loud, as well. This was feeling _far_ too good for a dream, Al thought, his brain short-circuiting. Al felt himself edging towards waking (among other things). He was beginning to have semi-lucid thoughts, such as, _"Scorpius is going to taunt me tomorrow for staining the fresh sheets he just put on the bed"_. Al willed himself to stay asleep, wanting nothing more than to give his dream self a chance to fuck Scorpius's eager mouth unrepentantly, but it was no use. Al kept his eyes closed as the scandalous scene before him faded away.

What did not fade away, however, was the feeling of a warm, wet mouth around his cock. Al's green eyes shot open upon simultaneously realizing that this was reality, and that he had the best boyfriend on the face of the earth. He blinked blearily and moved his hand to frantically search the bedside cabinet for his glasses. He needed to be able to properly see Scorpius as he did this; it was almost half the fun. Upon locating his glasses seconds later, Al whipped them on and gazed down at the delicious sight before his eyes. This was not, by any means, the first time Al had awoken to such welcome ministrations. Although he would probably never admit to it in so many words, Al knew Scorpius loved to give head. What was more, he sometimes even loved to give it in the most unexpected places, or at the most unexpected times, like, say, when his recipient was still asleep.

Scorpius, realizing he had obviously finally fellated Al from his slumber, looked up at his boyfriend with the same mischievous stare he had worn in Al's dream. He hummed most happily and took Al down his throat balls-deep, keeping grey eyes locked to green all the while. Scorpius didn't splutter, he didn't wince, his eyes didn't water, and he most certainly did not gag. _Ever._ Al had absolutely no idea how he managed it.

Scorpius Malfoy was a miracle, Al thought to himself as he fisted one hand in fine blond hair, the other in the Egyptian cotton sheets beside him. He was Merlin's gift to blow jobs, the best thing to happen to oral stimulation since the invention of the tongue. As sleazy and cliché as it sounded, Scorpius truly had no gag reflex. Al could face-fuck him until he coated the back of his throat and receive absolutely no complaints afterwards; if anything, he would receive the opposite. It was true, Scorpius liked to play to his strengths. The most interesting part of Scorpius's special talent was that it had never really needed improving upon. Sure, if anything, the ample practice Al was happy to provide had only increased Scorpius's skills and honed his technique; but from the first time Scorpius had gotten on his knees in front of Al when they were seventeen, he had been a master of his craft. As debauched as it may seem, Al was strongly of the conviction that his boyfriend had been thoughtfully constructed for, and endowed with, the ability to give better than excellent head, by whatever forces in the universe might control that kind of thing. Al knew he was a lucky man; there was no question about it; and right now, as Scorpius quickened his pace and Al felt his release building, Al thought he was at his luckiest.

"Uuungh. Oh Merlin, yes," Al moaned out as he tightened his hold on Scorpius's hair to the point of probably being almost painful. This caused Scorpius to moan in reply around Al's cock, the vibration of his throat sending further waves of pleasure through his frenzied boyfriend beneath him. At this, Al involuntarily thrust his hips upward to meet Scorpius's mouth, an action which would have pissed off a lot of people in Scorpius's position, but simply made Scorpius moan around Al all the more hungrily.

"Oh, oh, Shite. Scorpius, I fucking love you. Yes, yessss," Al breathed, and he didn't bother to attempt to quit thrusting into Scorpius to meet his glorious pace. Scorpius locked eyes with Al again, and winked slowly. It was Al's undoing, his cue to give Scorpius something to swallow, and he was about five seconds from doing so. Al gripped the sheets furiously and threw his head back onto the pillow. "Fuck, Holy Merlin, mmmmm. Just. Like. That. Baby. Fuck, fuuuuck. I'm gonna –"

"- Fuck." Scorpius flew into a sitting position, his mouth coming off Al's cock literally a second before it's presence there would have had Al thoroughly coming down his throat, screaming his name. "Al, what day is it?" Scorpius's looked and sounded rather panicky as he threw their blankets off of himself and onto the floor behind their bed in a frenzy of movement.

"Wha, why'd you, wha…" Al stammered as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened, thinking of one thing and one thing only: how he could get Scorpius back between his legs. Scorpius, however, was already springing out of bed. "…No. Nooooo," Al whined, coming to grips with the fact that Scorpius had actually stopped, seemingly without intentions of continuing.

"What day is it, Al?" Scorpius repeated his insistent question more loudly and more agitatedly this time.

" 's Thursday," Al muttered, Scorpius was not to be ignored.

"Shit! It _is_ Thursday!" Scorpius sounded as if his worst fears had been realized as he looked up at the clock on the wall. He raced across their bedroom naked to dig through the laundry basket in the corner feverishly, throwing dirty clothes haphazardly over his shoulder. "I'm supposed to be at the monthly fucking fourth floor staff meeting in three whole minutes! If I'm late, Senior Healer Dunbarton, A.K.A 'The Intolerable', will have my head."

"If you would've had _my_ head for one more sodding second, I would've been done," Al grumbled bad-temperedly, but Scorpius wasn't listening; he was pulling a pair of lime green Healer's robes over his head and making his way toward the kitchen at break-neck speed.

Al got up and made to follow Scorpius out of the room, slipping into a pair of boxer shorts, his erection painful and obvious even after it had been clothed. Scorpius was halfway through washing his hair in the sink when Al joined him in the kitchen. Al couldn't stop himself from glaring at him.

"Stop looking at me like that," Scorpius said ruefully, straightening up once he was properly rinsed. He performed a quick drying spell on his hair. "At least you get to do something about it." He threw Al the shampoo bottle. "Have fun with that in the shower." He smirked. "I love you. See you tonight." And, with that, Scorpius gave Al a quick kiss and Disapparated.

Scorpius arrived at work not a second too soon. The meeting had not yet begun, but he was the last person to slide into his chair around the rectangular wooden table in the boring staff room of the Spell Damage floor. He was still hard underneath his robes, and sincerely hoped that no one had noticed this as he had been walking in. He looked down at himself surreptitiously and was pleased to see that his concealing robes and the table were hiding any incriminating evidence to his morning activities. What he was _not_ pleased to see, however, was that his robes bore the embroidered name "Hr. Potter" next to their crossed wand and bone emblem. _Lovely_.

Scorpius whispered a "good morning" to the witch in the seat next to him, who had been in Slytherin two years above himself and Al, and waved back to the kindly, late-middle aged Healer's Assistant, Gladys, who worked in the closed ward with him. The meeting started. Healer Dunbarton informed them all of some new policy regarding patients who are incapacitated upon arrival's consent to treatment, a new study that was just published by a Canadian Healer on Jinx-breaking, the upcoming hospital benefit dinner, blah, blah.

All Scorpius could think about were Al's eyes in those seconds before he should have made him come down his throat. Scorpius felt bad for leaving him hanging, he really did, but better to do that than piss off Dunbarton and get put on third shift for a month. Al would understand. Al was incredibly understanding by nature, after all, if a bit whiney at times; and besides, Scorpius knew he would more than make up for his transgression tonight, in ways he alone could. All that being said, Scorpius tried to focus his attention on the meeting he was being forced to suffer through, but it was proving itself to be even more boring than usual this month. There was just no escaping the grudging feeling he was still experiencing, realizing he could be sexually satisfied himself, by now, and snuggled up next to his love in bed. The meeting seemed to drag on and on; finally, though, with one last word of warning about removing food from the staff room fridge at the end of each week (_or else_), the meeting ended. Chairs scraped the floor, and everyone shuffled off to begin their shifts in their respective wards.

Scorpius and Gladys made their way to the furthest most removed ward on the fourth floor. Upon reaching the locked door that separated the Janus Thickey ward from the rest of the floor, Scorpius muttered "_Alohomora"_ to gain entry, holding the door open for Gladys behind him. Gladys walked behind the large reception desk that was situated in the centre of the ward, in between two halls of patient's rooms.

"Well, Healer Potter, I'm off to go deliver the morning post to the residents." She smiled at Scorpius knowingly as she said this.

Scorpius tried not to look guilty at her notice of his being in the wrong robes and suddenly felt very grateful that he was incapable of blushing. He considered trying to think up a clever response to her statement on the spot, but couldn't; instead, he just nodded and made his way to the small office he had inherited the previous month when the ward's old Head Healer had retired, moving everyone below him up one rung on the seniority ladder. Scorpius sat down behind his desk and pulled out the file containing all of his patient's morning potion doses, which needed to be double-checked and signed off on before they could be administered. He sighed as he considered the list before him and forcibly pushed thoughts of half-lidded green eyes and a hand threaded in his hair to the back of his mind. He actively willed himself not to look up at the framed picture he had on his desk of he and Al kissing on their fifth anniversary. The last thing he needed was to become thoroughly distracted and screw up his patient's dosing. Scorpius wished one of two things; that he either did not have a conscience, or that he had just kept sucking Al off for one second longer. Though either would have helped keep his distraction at bay, the latter sounded like the better option.

Al arrived at work an hour after Scorpius had deserted him still feeling annoyed at his boyfriend. True, he _had_ gotten to finish himself off in the shower, but that had in no way been a preferred option this morning. Al would have his revenge somehow or another, he told himself; he wasn't the only Potter to ever be sorted into Slytherin for nothing, after all.

As Al approached the ground floor Inquiries desk, the pretty, young Welcome Witch (who, if he remembered correctly, had been in Hufflepuff in Lily's year) sitting behind it trilled at him, "Healer Potter! Healer Daniels would like to see you! He's right around the corner tending to a cauldron explosion victim." The blonde witch's voice was simperingly sweet, and she batted her eyelashes as she spoke. Al groaned inwardly at her flirtation. The silly girl had been barking up the wrong tree since she had begun working at St. Mungo's two months ago. What was more, everyone else seemed to find this too funny to bother correcting her.

Healer Daniels was the Healer-in-charge during the day shift on the Artefact Accidents floor, and was in charge of assigning and dispatching all of the Healers and Mediwizards who worked under him. Al wondered what he wanted, but he wasn't apprehensive. Unlike Scorpius's boss, Healer Daniels was agreeable enough. Al was supposed to be on call for Harpies practice today, and he knew Healer Daniels couldn't be switching his assignment; his position as Mediwizard to the Harpies was a permanent post. Al rounded the corner and strode down the hall a short distance before spotting Healer Daniels, who was bent over a wizard on a hovering gurney who's skin had gone utterly transparent and was frantically scratching himself as if every centimeter of said transparent skin was itching like mad. Upon hearing Al's footsteps approach, Healer Daniels looked up.

"Ah, good morning, Potter. Listen, I've just received word, Harpies practice has been cancelled today. I guess half the team and the coach have got Dragon pox," Healer Daniels explained, as a Trainee Healer drew up next to him and handed him a vial of orange potion, which he administered to his patient below, who's itching seemed to lessen. "Anyway, all the better for us. You'll be helping us out here on the ground floor today, but I'll dispatch you to the field, too, should the need arise. If you haven't got any questions, just go grab a file and start triaging the waiting room. I believe we've got a few non-emergencies out there. You know the drill."

"Alright. Thank you, Healer Daniels," Al replied, trying not to display his aversion to the news he had just received. He had really been looking forward to being on the Quidditch pitch this morning; the fresh air and the lively atmosphere would have eased his frustration. He was just about to begin wondering how his morning could get any worse, when a sudden inspiration hit him. It seemed as though he may have his revenge on Scorpius sooner than he had anticipated. Indeed, a trip to the fourth floor, and a visit to Gilderoy Lockhart seemed in order.

Scorpius had been unable to shake his somewhat strange and distracted mood all day. He kept thinking about Al, wondering about how his day was going, and trying hard not to imagine the things he couldn't wait to do to him the minute they reunited at home; that is, if Al wasn't still nettled at him for abandoning him in such a dire state this morning, and would consent to being compensated. Tending to his patients, administering their morning potions and remedial charms, and chatting with them to assess their mental states, as well as to keep them in good spirits, had helped; as had sitting with Gladys and hearing all about her new grandbaby; but the moment Scorpius was alone in his office again, the thoughts of a certain raven-haired, green-eyed someone forced themselves upon his brain once more. In his office, alone, was precisely where Scorpius was at the present moment, too. Currently, he was looking over the file of a patient who was potentially being committed to his ward at the end of the week (if she hadn't made serious improvements by then), ignoring his nagging memory of the first time he and Al had made love in the Room of Requirement, and feeling distinctly hungry. It was 12.29 p.m. At half noon he got an hour break for lunch; but he had rushed out of the flat in such a hurry this morning, that he hadn't brought any food with him. He was just about to get up from his desk chair and head up to the tearoom on the floor above to at least buy a pastry, when the door to his office was thrown open.

Al bounded into his office, smiling good-naturedly and carrying what appeared to be takeout in one hand. He crossed the office swiftly and perched himself on Scorpius's desk, setting the takeout down next to him and crossing his legs with a flourish of lime green robes.

"What are you doing here, babe?" Scorpius asked Al, smiling down at the file on his desk. He hoped his face didn't betray how intensely glad he was to see both Al and a decent lunch enter his office in one fell swoop.

"I work here," Al stated simply, leaning backward over Scorpius's desk to kiss him.

"I am aware of that, my love; but what are you doing right here, right now? I thought the Harpies had practice today," Scorpius prompted, rolling his eyes at Al's intentional obviousness.

"They've all got Dragon pox, apparently. Healer Daniels has got me doing patient intake on the ground floor instead," Al explained.

"I don't envy you there," Scorpius said, raising his eyebrows. The ground floor handled all of the magical artefact accidents, and was probably the closest thing St. Mungo's possessed to a Muggle emergency room. Scorpius gave a little shudder at the thought.

"Eh, it's entertaining, at least," Al shrugged. Being a Mediwizard, he definitely did not possess his boyfriend's same aversion to blood and guts.

"Anything particularly interesting happen yet today? Anyone tried to _Engorgio_ their manhood?" Scorpius asked, referring to one particularly questionable case Al had been on call to witness back when they were both fresh out of Healer training, with a smirk on his face.

Al laughed. "No, no. Nothing's been that good. I dunno…I had a nine-year-old who fell off his broomstick and fractured his skull, an old senile witch who, for whatever reason, tried to _Obliviate_ her reflection in the mirror…dare say you'll be seeing her later; a couple of potion spills, oh, and a witch giving birth into her pantyhose." Al grimaced. "I stayed as far away from that one as possible, though, as you can imagine. Merlin knows vaginas are daunting enough without a blue-faced infant hanging out of them."

"Alright, alright," Scorpius replied in a disturbed tone, his face rather paler than usual, holding up a hand to indicate that Al should (_please_) not elaborate further.

"Anyway, on that note, I brought you lunch. That flaky new Welcome Witch who's always flirting with me because I'm a Potter, and because she's too blonde to realize that _I'm_ Harry Potter's gay son, not James…"

Scorpius chose to let Al's blonde remark slide in favour of mentally snickering at the idea that _anyone_ would be daft enough to think that _James_ was Harry Potter's gay son.

"…was going on a lunch run to that Muggle deli around the corner, so I had her get you a salad," Al said, unpacking the food. "I know you didn't have time to grab anything from home before you left me to wank off in the shower," he added, a little begrudgingly.

"Thanks, Al. You're the greatest, really; and I'm sorry for this morning, honestly; but consider yourself lucky, at least you got to wank off. I got to listen to Dunbarton drone on and on about how that benefit dinner has gone from costing twenty Galleons a plate, to costing thirty Galleons a plate, because now they're having live music, with a hard on."

"I didn't know snooty benefit dinners got you off," Al wisecracked. "But I guess you _are_ a Malfoy." He smirked wickedly. "Do we have to go to that, by the way?" Al then asked in a tone of complaint.

"Yes, obviously. Your whole family is going, and we've already paid in advance," Scorpius replied, raising an eyebrow in Al's direction.

"Uuugh. _And_ my whole family is going? So, therefore, you won't even be able to give me a hand job under the tablecloth to stave off the boredom?" Al asked, rolling his eyes but grinning maliciously all the same.

"Has your family being present ever stopped me from giving you a hand job under the tablecloth before?" Scorpius asked suggestively, not looking up from his salad.

Al looked thoroughly pleased at Scorpius's words, but he wasn't done whining yet, "Couldn't we just donate the money and skip the stupid dinner? Merlin knows concealed hand jobs are the_ least_ fun we could be having on a night off. Besides, we donate so much sodding money to this place anyway; we might as well just let them keep our salaries and volunteer. I doubt us skipping one benefit dinner would hurt them much," Al groaned on.

"What do you suggest we spend my inheritance on otherwise, Albus?" Scorpius asked a little witheringly, utilizing Al's full name. "A bigger flat than we know what to do with? Vacations abroad? Fine wine? Expensive dinners out? Oh, wait, we already do spend it on all that, too."

"Shit, Scorpius. Don't make me out to be a greedy bastard, here. I just really don't want to go to that benefit dinner, is all," Al replied, looking slightly guilty.

"Well, we're going to the benefit dinner, but I promise I'll make it worth your while." Scorpius winked. "Now talk to me about something else. I've missed you all day, and I could do without hearing you gripe, now that I'm getting to spend an hour with you."

Al looked slightly put out for perhaps a second, but then swiftly smiled at his boyfriend. "You've missed me all day, babes?" Al asked in a sentimental voice, picking out Scorpius's affectionate statement. He hopped down from the desk and walked around behind it, situating himself on Scorpius's lap, and draping his arms around the taller man's shoulders. Al leaned down and kissed Scorpius possibly a little too deeply, considering their present location. "You probably only missed me so much because you didn't get a chance to wank off after this morning." Al snickered softly into Scorpius's hair.

Scorpius denied this, but the erection growing beneath his robes, which Al could definitely feel, was in direct contradiction to his words.

"Only you wouldn't just put up wards and have yourself off in here," Al continued, lowering his voice to a rather provocative whisper.

"I think not," Scorpius objected. "I've just gotten this office. I'd like to keep it, and my job, thank you very much."

"Oh, come on, sexy. What's having your own office good for, really, if not to have a bit of fun in it?" Al asked seductively; he was now straddling Scorpius in his desk chair, and running an alluring finger down his chest.

"Uhh…" Scorpius couldn't come up with a sufficient answer for this.

Scorpius's smoky grey eyes found Al's brilliant green ones, which were saying nothing but "come-hither". Scorpius wore a look that fell somewhere between bewilderment and lustful excitement. Al ground his hips down into Scorpius's hardness, knowing that small movement was all Scorpius needed to bend to his will. Scorpius bit his bottom lip and squeezed his eyes shut. By the time he opened his eyes again, no more than a second later, Al was on his knees on the floor in front of him, situated between his legs. Scorpius had (less than) half a mind to tell Al to stop, but he knew that he would be something worse than stupid to outright refuse the treatment he was about to receive. Therefore, he nonverbally cast a Silencing Charm, and allowed Al to open his robes, unzip his flies, and pull his straining cock free through the front of his pants and trousers.

Al's mouth was covering his length instantaneously, his pace steady. Scorpius was thankful that he was sitting down, because he wouldn't have trusted his knees to support his weight had he been standing unsupported. Al looked up at him with big, vibrant eyes, through pretty, long black lashes, and Scorpius felt his stomach plummet pleasurably. As Al worked his way up and down Scorpius's shaft, slurping and sucking, and making a whole host of deliciously perverse noises, Scorpius dazedly wondered if there was any blood left in his brain. He'd had to have been slightly insane to allow this to happen; but no matter, he certainly would not last long considering the superb job Al was doing, and then he would zip up his trousers and no one would be any the wiser.

"_Oh fuck,"_ Scorpius thought, as he hissed in a sharp breath as Al sucked down hard on just the head of his cock. Al then took into his mouth as much of Scorpius's length as he could. Al's pace was suddenly furious, and Scorpius's stomach was clenching. Any second now he would be coming. Hard. Scorpius placed a hand on the back of Al's head and fought with all his might not to thrust upward and jab Al in the back of the throat. "_Yes, yes, yes!_"

There was a knock on the door. Al shot up from the floor and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Why did he look…_pleased_?

Scorpius's mind flew into a panic. He shoved his painfully hard cock back into his trousers and zipped his flies. He nonverbally took down the Silencing Charm he had cast on the door and shooed Al out from behind his desk. He then attempted to rearrange his features into a semblance of calm, before speaking a breathy "Come in", his heart racing.

Gladys poked her head in the door. "Healer Malfoy, I'm so sorry to interrupt your lunch, but Gilderoy will not stop insisting you see him," She spoke, shaking her head.

"Oh, uh, alright, very well, Gladys. Thanks for telling me. You can let him know I'll be right there," Scorpius stammered.

Al smiled at Gladys, looking a bit too composed. "I noticed what you told me when you let me in, Gladys, he _is_ wearing my robes," Al told the grandmotherly woman opposite him, a note of laughter to his voice.

"Yes, my dear Scorpius here seems to be a little out of sorts today," Gladys conceded, dropping her formal tone. Although Scorpius was technically her superior, she was old enough, knowledgeable enough, and had been working at St. Mungo's long enough to mother or give orders to whomever she pleased. "You make sure you take good care of him now, Al. He's the best young Healer this ward's got. We need him in his right mind." She chuckled a little and Al made to follow her out of the room.

"Oh, don't worry, Gladys. I'll take _excellent_ care of him." And, with that, Al turned and winked at Scorpius, and left the ward.

Scorpius wasn't sure why, but he got the distinct impression that Al had somehow planned to leave him hanging as payback for this morning. He didn't know how this was possible, but then Al _had_ been in Slytherin, after all, Scorpius reminded himself. Scorpius willed his erection down, trying to think un-sexy thoughts, not fancying the idea of going in to give Gilderoy Lockhart a Calming Draught with a raging hard on. Finally, after a time (a time spent envisioning his late grandfather in thong knickers), he felt it was safe to leave his office and go see what Lockhart was on about.

As it turned out, Lockhart's big emergency was that the corner of one of his battered old posters of himself had fallen away from the wall, it's Sticking Spell beginning to wear off. Upon learning this, Scorpius had found himself suddenly possessed with a mad urge to bash Gilderoy over the head with one of his conveniently placed _Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award_ plaques. Scorpius resisted, however, taking several calming breaths as he reached up to re-stick Lockhart's poster to the wall just above his head.

"You know, you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you, Healer Malfoy," Lockhart said in his pompous tone, letting his sentence hang in the air as he supervised Scorpius fixing his poster from a few feet away.

"What wouldn't I believe, Gilderoy?" Scorpius asked, looking back over his shoulder, humouring the man in the lilac slippers, and trying to sound more falsely interested than irritated as fuck.

Scorpius really was in no mood for one of Lockhart's long-winded, confused rants/dramatizations about capturing Ghouls in tea strainers, or how to sign just the perfect autograph. Gilderoy Lockhart was a prime example of a case where Healers, over the years, had had some limited success returning his memory. He had very, very brief snippets of understanding of his past life, who he was, and people he had known prior to incurring his spell damage.

"Harry Potter paid me a visit today," Lockhart finished, sounding incredibly pleased to be sharing this news.

Scorpius nearly ripped Lockhart's poster in half by the corner he was holding, he turned around to look at the other blond wizard so abruptly. He was going to _kill_ Al.

"Did he, now?" Scorpius asked, his voice full of sinister comprehension.

"Oh, yes; and he looked exactly the same as I remember him, too. He must have excellent genes, that man, he hasn't aged a day," Gilderoy continued, smiling serenely at something akin to a memory that was evidentially playing in his mind's eye.

The idea that Lockhart "remembered" Harry Potter seemed highly suspect to Scorpius; however, he knew that Lockhart did own a book dedicated to commemorating the top one hundred most famous witches and wizards in history, and that this book (which Lockhart liked to look at quite often) contained several pictures of a Harry Potter in his prime. Again, he was going to _kill_ Al.

"Ah, but are you sure it was the _real_ Harry Potter?" Scorpius asked, moving away from the now re-affixed poster and over to Lockhart's bedside cabinet, where he kept his well loved book entitled, _Faces of the Wizarding World: The Top 100 Most Celebrated Witches and Wizards in History_. Scorpius picked it up and turned to a dog-eared picture of his honorary father-in-law. "Look at this, Gilderoy. Did he have the scar?" Scorpius asked, pointing to the lightening bolt on Harry's forehead in the photograph.

Comprehension (well, not quite) dawned on Lockhart's face. "An imposter!" He cried animatedly.

"And I would be prepared to bet this imposter Potter had freckles, too, did he not, Gilderoy?" Scorpius asked in a forced calm. How could Al have thought he wouldn't figure this out? He really was a first-generation Slytherin, wasn't he?

"Don't fret, Healer Malfoy! Rest assured that if I ever see the imposter again, I will take him down, using every ounce of skill, cunning, and brawn I possess." Gilderoy sounded determined, and Scorpius got a sick sense of satisfaction in knowing that the next time Al came up to the fourth floor to bring him lunch, Gilderoy Lockhart would undoubtedly tackle him to the floor.

"Thank you, Gilderoy. I truly look forward to the day that you can apprehend him for me," Scorpius replied, handing a small plastic vial containing a dose of Calming Draught to Lockhart, who drank the potion obediently. Scorpius made a mental note to arrange for Lockhart to be able to "apprehend" Al sometime in the very near future.

Scorpius left Lockhart's room mentally fuming. It was ridiculous that Al _ever _assumed that he possessed enough Slytherin cunning to outwit Scorpius; but Scorpius at least felt vindicated in the fact that Al had not gotten away with his feeble little scheme undiscovered. Scorpius always felt caught off guard whenever Al acted out vindictively. Typically, Al was tolerant and amiable to the last degree; but every so often, when Scorpius did something that particularly irked him, he would attempt to pull the wool over his boyfriend's eyes. Al's attempts were rarely successful, and usually ended up coming back to bite him in the arse.

To think, Al had actually endured a visit with Lockhart, posed as his father, and convinced the befuddled old celebrity to raise the alarm just when he knew he would be turning on the charm to Scorpius; the nerve of him. The very idea of this made Scorpius want to march straight down to the ground floor and smack the freckles right off of Al's charming little face; or wait until they were home alone together and then strangle him with the lime green ties of his Healer's robes. Scorpius knew that he would inevitably come to regret acting upon either impulse, though. After all, he grudgingly admitted to himself, Al's freckles were cute as a button, and should he kill the lovable twit, he would certainly come to miss him dearly while he wasted away in Azkaban. With this knowledge in the back of his mind, Scorpius carefully considered his two best options for avenging himself: withholding sex, or tying Al to the bed frame and giving him the thorough spanking he so deserved, before ploughing him into the mattress. Certainly, the latter option sounded like so much more fun.

Al arrived home that evening later than usual, having been dispatched to the field on an emergency assignment half an hour before his shift was due to end. Judging by the fact that his shoes were sitting next to the welcome mat, and a light was on in their bedroom, Scorpius was already home, as expected. Al wondered whether or not he was in trouble for his Lockhart plot, and if indeed he was, what his punishment would be. Scorpius usually played out anger towards Al in one of two ways: by either becoming maddeningly aloof and withholding sex for around a week, or by shagging him so thoroughly that the plaster wall behind their bed got dented. Certainly, the latter option sounded like so much more fun.

Al opened the door to his and Scorpius's bedroom and brought the scent of the outdoors, Murtlap Essence, and topical antiseptic potion into the room with him. Scorpius, who was lying stretched out on their bed in Al's old Slytherin Quidditch t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, reading the latest issue of _Magical Medicine_, wrinkled his nose when Al entered the bedroom; however, he gave no other indication that he had noticed his boyfriend's appearance in their room. Apparently, Al _was_ in trouble, and judging the way things were going so far, he would do well to begin emotionally preparing himself to be spurned and sexually frustrated until late next week. Al crawled into bed next to Scorpius and put on his sweetest, most innocent expression, in what he knew would be a vain attempt to coax the blond out of anger.

"I'm home, baby," Al whispered in a sugary tone.

"Get out of this bed immediately. These sheets are clean, and your robes are a biohazard," Scorpius instructed sternly, still not looking up from his periodical.

Al sighed and turned over, placing his feet on the floor and standing back up. He looked down at his robes. The state of them really was nothing to get in a fuss about. Sure, he _did_ have a light bloodstain on one sleeve, and the Mediwizard working beside him _had_ accidentally flung Murtlap Essence all over, some coming to rest on Al's robes, but what did Scorpius expect? He had settled down with a Mediwizard, after all.

"Scorpius Hyperion, I have been saving lives all day," Al chastised with a heavy dose of deliberate self-importance. In retrospect, now was probably not the best time for sarcastic hero-complexes.

"Saving lives, hm? Does that explain why you're home so late?" Scorpius asked scathingly, feigning disinterest, but raising his eyebrows.

"Indeed. I got dispatched on an emergency at the last minute. Some seventeen-year-old idiots all hopped up on black market hallucinogen potions decided it would be a good idea to attempt Apparition. Well, long story short, they only managed to splinch themselves into about six pieces. I've been scraping body parts off the street in Knockturn Alley for the past two hours."

"Ah, well, thank Merlin then that you were there to save the day. A mere mortal such as myself wonders how you found time in between all of your lifesaving to visit, lie to, coerce, and altogether thoroughly disquiet one of _my_ patients today," Scorpius's voice was rising agitatedly as he spoke, his eyes flashing dangerously. He was still angry with Al for conspiring to leave him hanging, after seducing him into being the recipient of a blow job in his office; however, what enraged him even more was the fact that Al's conspiring had been accomplished by taking advantage of one of his mentally unsound patients…even if that patient had been Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Oh, come off it, Scorpius. Lockhart _loved_ me visiting him. He was ecstatic," Al said, deciding that trying to deny his meeting with Lockhart would only make things worse; namely because (as Scorpius relished pointing out at every opportunity) he was a terrible liar. All the same, Al hoped he didn't look as guilty as he was beginning to feel. Perhaps he was in more trouble than he thought. Scorpius was, after all, very protective of his patients.

"Only he didn't know _you_ were visiting him. You told him you were your father, you right arse! You _used_ a mentally damaged inpatient's affection for your father to get back at me for running out on you this morning. Do you know _why_ I ran out on you this morning, Albus? So that I could get to work on time and keep by dreadful boss appeased, so as to avoid being placed on night shift for a month, leaving you to sleep alone," Scorpius had finally turned his eyes to Al, glaring at him as he sprang out of bed to stand opposite him, throwing down _Magical Medicine_ onto the mattress a little harder than necessary, and crossing his arms over his chest. Scorpius would get a proper apology out of Al. Indeed, he was angry enough that he _needed _to hear him apologise, before he could allow himself to "punish" Al the way he wanted to.

"_Shit,"_ Al thought. Scorpius was actually angry over this. He could tell this not only by the seething sincerity in his last statement, but also by the look in those stormy grey eyes; the look that told him he had better apologise, or live to regret it. Al had always been man enough to admit when he was in the wrong, and right now he was smart enough to see that this was probably one of those times. Al was fairly positive that he was at least looking thoroughly guilty by now, and he met Scorpius's furious gaze with an apologetic stare. "Alright, love, you're right. I'm sorry. What I did to Lockhart, and what I did to you, was selfish and uncalled for. I was so frustrated after you left in a hurry this morning, because, well, the things you do to me with that pretty mouth –"

Scorpius made an irritable tsking noise, urging Al to get back to the point.

"- Anyway, sorry, I was so frustrated, that I acted like a right idiot. I promise I won't ever do anything like this again. Will you forgive me? Please, babe?" Al put on his best loving smile and waited to see what his affect had been.

"You will apologise to Gilderoy Lockhart, and explain to him who you are. You will also come to visit him whenever he asks to see you. Furthermore, if I ever catch you tampering with my patients again, I will have you banned from the ward; and you had better not, Al, because I really like it when you come have lunch with me. If you're in agreement to these terms, then yes, I forgive you," Scorpius replied, sounding slightly placated. He tried not to crack a smile thinking about how soon he would get to witness Lockhart tackling Al.

"Absolutely. Merlin, I love you, Scorpius," Al added for good measure.

"I love you too, idiot." Scorpius allowed Al to kiss him on the bridge of his nose, then returned his kiss on the lips. He pushed him away when he attempted to pull him into a hug, though, fearing Al's disgusting robes.

"Well, now that we've cleared that up, is there anything _else_ I can do to make it up to you?" Al asked, waggling his eyebrows in Scorpius's direction suggestively. Merlin knows they both needed to release some pent-up sexual tension.

"Yes, you can take a shower. You reek," Scorpius told him a little reproachfully, not rising to his bait just yet.

Al huffed, pretending to be offended, and pulled his dirty robes off over his head, making to exit the bedroom and head for the shower.

"And then," Scorpius began in a rather captivating tone, causing Al to stop in the doorway, "you can come back in here naked and get on your hands and knees in the centre of our bed, and prepare to be shagged senseless."

Scorpius's words aroused Al instantaneously, his face splitting into a wicked grin. He dropped his trousers and pants, displaying said arousal, and made off for the shower. He should really seek revenge more often.

**The end.**


End file.
